Period 3 Parenting Class 202
by CraftyNotepad
Summary: Yeah, sack of flour, been done before a million times ... so what's one more going to hurt?


Period 3 Parenting Class 202

Keely, Owen, Grace, Grady, Miss Mayberry

10:35am-11:25am

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future, but then, you didn't come here to read that, did you?

Thank you, okaie, for everything you contribute to mature my stories.

"This again? Piece of cake. Flour to be precise. We'll haul around our bag-o-flourchild, scratch out a budget that doesn't include fast food or movies and we'll score a B+ minimum! Sweet."

"There wasn't much information in the syllabus. Does anyone even know who's our teacher"

"I hope it's a bachelor. We can get away with murder when they don't know which end the diaper goes on."

"You don't even know which end the diaper goes on."

"Look! It's Miss Mayberry. Well, a bachelorette isn't too bad."

"On the contrary, it's great!"

"Owen."

"Hey, Keely. Wanttah make a baby?"

Keely laughs and Owen stops immediately.

She hasn't ever practiced that particular laugh; it was just there; it tells him that he isn't a threat because she's committed to someone special.

Miss Mayberry picks up a fresh stick of chalk and quickly attacks the chalkboard.

**Parenting Class 202**

A few student checking their schedules gather their bookbags and depart looking for their correct class. Miss Mayberry continues.

**Care of the Elderly**

Gasps of amazement and disbelief fill the students' portion of the classroom. Most check their schedules again. Nope, this is their course.

"Miss Mayberry? Are you in the right class? This class is supposed to be about parenting, about learning to take care of a bag of -- a kid."

"Life is just filled with surprises, even at your age. Though the class title is unchanged, this course has been redesigned to address the your needs in the years to come. For some, you'll need this education sooner than later, perhaps even before you become parents yourselves."

"Not me. My dad is going to get two pensions."

"People think that my mom and I are sisters."

"I've got a little sister; she'll take care of them."

"I'm going to be busy being on world tours with my band."

"It's not my responsibility,"

Miss Mayberry raised both her hands. They had had their moans, now it was time to get busy. "Despite your plans to become multibillionaires at nineteen, this class is to prepare you for your parents ... who've been there for you ... needing your help as they get on in years. Nursing homes are already packed and with both skyrocketing costs and ever increasing numbers of baby boomers overcrowding nursing homes, they'll be depending on you, their children, to provide the support that they'll likely require in the coming years,"

Hey, these are our lives. We're supposed to grow up and move away from home. It's the American way"

"Maybe, but throughout history and the world, that's rarely been the case. Parents take care of their children, then the children reciprocate."

"Yeah, but -- "

"But what?"

"I thought this was going to be a class about raising babies."

"Parents' priorities must have changed. As taxpayers, they see Social Security in trouble, retirement and medical programs becoming expense, fragile or extinct, and they want a backup plan. Consider some parts of Africa where famine occurs often, yet families continue to have large numbers of children."

"Stupid. If they had fewer kids, there'd be more food to go around. Idiots. They should do the math."

"On the surface, it can be interpreted that way, but here's another perspective. The parents have looked at their future and have done the math. Imagine you're a father in a drought riddled region of Africa. There's no Social Security or pensions. Your offspring are the only support that you'll have to take care of you and your wife when you become old and enfeebled, or become sick or injured long before then. How many children will you need to sire to provide yourselves with a safety net for your uncertain future? Two? Six? Ten?"

"Say you're a parent who's going to have sixteen children there. There's no one to help look after you in your old age, except your own kids. On average, fifty-percent of your children will be girls; worthless to your retirement plan because they'll leave your household to live with their husbands' family. You're down to eight. Without modern septic systems and medicine, half your children will die from disease before age five. Next, you'll again lose half of your boys to war. With just two boys left, if you're lucky one son will stay and take care of you in your declining years. That's the reasoning for the large families -- they did do the math."

"Now, I'm not saying that your parents are planning on surprising you with a dozen new siblings in the coming years. Infant mortality is very low in developed countries, as is deaths due to battles in wars. Still, your parents are doing the math, also. We're all living in a country with a ballooning elderly population as the baby boomers from World War II to the early Sixties continue to retire and live longer; all the while, the younger workforce will be shrinking proportionately, having to support a huge aging population both physically and financially. The social institutions set up in the 20th Century may be strained to the point that they can not be depended on to provide your parents with the help they need to function. Good thing they have you, huh?"

Raising her hand, Keely raised her hand and her doubts, "How can I -- we, take care of our parents and hold down full-time jobs while raising our own families?"

"Good question. As we'll explore in this course, there are a variety of solutions depending on your parents' needs, which will vary individually and over time. For example, let's say that your mother lives alone ... "

Keely somberly pictures her mother after she's gone off to start her journalism career and marry Phil, or marry Phil and then become successful in her career.

" ... with weakening eyesight."

Now, Keely is worried about her mother's eyesight. Lately, she has been squinting a great deal, and not just when she was telling Owen to get off her porch and go home.

"Get into groups and brainstorm what your mother's needs might be then, and how to assist her."

Grace tapped Keely's back, "Want to work together?" Owen had already spun his chair around to face the girls and Grady had done the same. Grace started the group off.

"Okay, who wants to record?" Keely raised her pen.

"Alright, I'm in charge," Owen declared taking command.

"Owen, do you know anyone with poor vision?"

"Sure! My grandparents both wear glasses."

"So, how do they adapt?"

"I told you; they wear glasses."

"O-Kay ... I'm thinking that we're supposed to imagine vision problems that are more severe. Grady, what do you think?"

"Getting around in Pickford is tough without a car. I'd start with driving. If you can't see to drive ... "

"Good. What else?"

"They have phone and debit cards today for kids to use in emergencies. Why not taxi cards in the future for kids to buy for their parents?"

"Alright, list that as a possible adaptation. Now, more poor vision challenges."

"Remember in Biology when Mrs. Zollam used a CCD camera on the microscope to present the image to the entire class on the T.V.? My mom could use a wireless camera like a pen that could send the picture to her large flat screen. Put the camera on a stand and she could then use both hands to fasten a bracelet or thread a needle. Or she could send me a scanned copy of what she's trying to read and I could read it aloud to her over the phone"

"Okay, that's both problems and solutions. Keep 'em comin'."

"What about low-tech? A drop of hot glue or a fuzzy piece of Velcro on a washing machine dial or microwave's 30-second button could be simply felt for in able to use the appliance by touch alone. Same for remote controls -- they have too many buttons anyway for my Mom now. Same for the little membrane buttons on the new cell phones."

"Better to go for voice recognition on the cell phones. Just say the name or number and it dials it. If they can do it for cell phones, stoves and dryers won't be far behind -- televisions, too."

"My grandma liked to listen to the radio a lot, but finding the various stations that she liked got harder for her. Grampa would tune it for her, but that just made her upset that she had to ask him, so she often didn't. Dad solved it. He just bought her a bunch of different radios, then labeled and taped down the tuners on each one so she just turned on the radio that went along with the station that she liked at that time of the day or night."

"What about just knowing the time and date? Could she -- "

"Time to move on," was announced. "Hopefully, you discovered that the problem is both something solvable and something that you can contribute to. That was just one area that we'll be covering in this course. There's also mobility around the home, loss of tactile sensation, toileting, bathing, socializing, education, security, entertainment, nutrition and medical. We'll cover -- yes, Owen?"

"Miss Mayberry, when do we get our sack of flour?"

"No flour. Haven't you been listening? Tonight, Owen, you bathe your mother."

"No way!"

"Why not? Didn't she bathe you when you broke both of your arms last summer doing a skateboard stunt? And who wiped your little O-Dog bottom with both of your arms in casts."

Bright red, head dropping, Owen broke off eye contact with everyone while the teacher waited for an answer that wouldn't likely be coming. "My mom."

"So, she's taken care of you as a newborn and later in life when you couldn't do for yourself. Fair's fair, right?"

"Guess so."

"Good. Now take a breath, Owen. I was kidding about the bathing, but if your mother ever needs such help from you, I'm sure that you'll rise to the occasion, supported by her example. She's raised a fine son."

Nice touch, Teach, thought Keely. She considered how this course wouldn't be another one of those where she couldn't see how she would ever use what she learned here in real life. If that were true for her, then it would be true for her classmates as well. Almost without her consent, Keely's hand shot up.

"Yes, Keely?" The classroom's intercom phone rang. "Just a moment." After just a handful of seconds on the handset, Miss Mayberry announced, "Owen, they want you in the office."

"make way.

dead man walking"

"**bUs**ted ... "

" ... BUs-**TEd**"

" ... BuStED ... "

"_so busted_"

In a fog and looking somewhat innocent, Owen gathered his books back into his backpack and slunk out of the classroom with all eyes on him. Miss Mayberry looked back at the collections of youngsters and found a single arm erect. "Yes, Keely?"

"I was just thinking that what we're going to be covering would be useful to keep in a notebook for when it's needed ... " The class groaned. More work. Couldn't she have kept her idea to herself? Why couldn't Teslow have been sent to the office?

"True, that's why 30-percent of your grade will be determin --"

"... and that the other groups will probably come up with invaluable ideas or recognizing information that I'll miss ... " A lot fewer groans.

"Perhaps, but I have to grade each student's work indep --"

" ... that may one day actually save my mother's life, so we should compile a group compendium so that everyone can equally benefit. 'Grading now' is not a good reason for anyone's mother or father to have to suffer later." Heads began nodding, accompanying eye contacts and smiles.

"Hmm. Let me think about this ... yes, yes, it is a part of the big picture that is the guiding theme of this course. So, I'll change the grading rubric. All your notes and researc --"

"Should be published on the school's website in PDF with hyperlinks to sources for further information, organizations, and manufacturers that can help kids everywhere return the care and love that our parents have already given to us. At least, that's what I think."

The classroom exploded in applause. It was a great idea. The kind that couldn't be argued against successfully without submarining purpose of the course itself. Further, it would be their class's gift to Herbert G. Wells Jr.-Sr. High's legacy: a course with real world application that applied to all students. It'd also look good on college applications.

Why couldn't all school classes be so practical?


End file.
